


Assorted FFXV Appreciation Week Drabbles

by wickedorin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A tiny bit of smut, AU, Angst, BrOT4 - Relationship - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Minor Injuries, Mostly Gen, Multi, Some Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-30 01:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 13,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-release drabbles written for each of the three FFXV Appreciation Weeks.  Decided to finally toss them all together, because...it's been a while and I should have done this months ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Favorite Chocobro

**Author's Note:**

> Saccharine sweet fluff. Just. Infinite fluff. Also I’m… not sure that I successfully managed to pick just one. Whoops.

Despite the relatively decent night’s rest he’d received, Noctis had already firmly classified traipsing across Duscae as really not a good time. There were worse that he could think of, and yes there was something about the open landscape and the fresh air that was nice, but the whole _walking everywhere_ thing was getting old fast. That and having to hunt for their food, as Ignis insisted on saving money. He supposed he understood. But still.  
  
Another warm, sunny day was definitely welcome, anyway, even if wearing mostly black had its disadvantages for fighting out in the middle of the field. Prompto probably had it right with the sleeveless vest, but–  
  
Noctis blinked, glancing back and taking note of the blond’s behavior. He’d been _doing_ that all morning, aiming his phone at himself and snapping pictures. Over and over again, turning, stopping, taking a smiling picture, looking at it, frowning, and walking. Pulling back away from Gladiolus and Ignis as they discussed the finer points of something boring, he finally lightly elbowed his friend in the side. “What are you doing?”  
  
Prompto sighed deeply. “I can’t get a good selfie no matter how hard I try! It’s like I’m cursed out here or something.”  
  
The prince snorted. And he’d thought it might have been _serious_. “Maybe it’s the light.” At least he attempted to be helpful.  
  
That actually seemed like a good point, as far as the blond was concerned. “Well… maybe. You wanna try?”  
  
“Sure.” Noctis shrugged, taking the phone. He didn’t even bother to stop as he held the device at arm’s length and a little above his standard line of sight, giving only the slightest of smiles before snapping a picture. Handing the phone back without looking at the result, he assumed it would be pretty bad.  
  
He was so wrong. Prompto frowned even harder at the last picture than any previous; the royal brat had perfectly pulled off the “slightly tussled hair and not really caring” look. _And_ the light was perfect. “This isn’t fair, Noct. You’re a supermodel or something.”  
  
It would have been wrong to tease. Even if it was really tempting. “I’m too obviously tired to be a supermodel.”  
  
“What are you two doing?” Ignis called from up ahead, turning to walk backwards.  
  
“You guys wanna do me a favor?” Noctis answered before Prompto could. He jogged up ahead a little ways, handing the phone to a confused-looking Gladio. “Take a selfie together. For science.”  
  
“For science.” Ignis repeated, incredulous.  
  
“Well if it’s for science.” Gladiolus grinned, immediately wrapping an arm around the bespeckled brunet despite the slight noise of protest. “Say ‘I need more coffee’, Iggy.”  
  
“Indeed.” Was all they got out of him before the generic “camera sound” went off.  
  
The body guard handed the phone back over to Noctis, chuckling. “We’ll see what we can find for caffeine infusions after the car’s fixed.” Not that the brunet’s sound of acknowledgment was all that positive.  
  
Prompto had caught up to them by that time, simply taking the phone as Noctis handed it back to him. The frown intensified. “You’re all supermodels and it’s not fair.”  
  
With a little sigh, Gladious took a bit of pity on him. “C'mere.” Still within arm’s reach of Ignis, the adviser and Prompto were unceremoniously pulled together.  
  
Just as Noctis thought he might be able to get away from the little group hug session, it was _Ignis_ (the traitor) who pulled him in closer. “Smile, Highness.”  
  
“Fat chance.” The prince quipped, physically pressed in close to Prompto before Gladiolus held up the phone and took another shot.  
  
After everyone broke apart, Prompto found himself a little loathe to actually _look_ at the finished picture. Everyone else’s had been _great_ , and all of his were just so…  
  
“Well?” Ignis prodded, arms crossed.  
  
Steeling himself with a deep breath, the blond finally peered at his phone; and smiled. “This is the dorkiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” Gladio was smiling like a champ, Ignis appeared to be mid-protest, Noctis was just short of pouting even if there _was_ the gentlest upturn in the corners of his lips, and Prompto… Well, he was no supermodel. But he was smiling honestly in spite of himself. “Thanks.”


	2. “This is a Fantasy Based on Reality.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This… went a different direction than anticipated. Still fluff.

There was a checklist to be completed every morning before they left any location. Ignis was in charge of it, of course; all just to be sure that they left nothing behind, had the Regalia fully packed up and could head out at a reasonable time. It was the subject of much debate and teasing, mostly for the fact that it was _so_ detailed. Down to numbers of socks required for changing, packing, and projected laundry days (which changed according to weather). There was always a hopeful note about coffee… but alas, they hadn’t found anywhere to purchase the essential favorite.  
  
Even a general outline of the suggested morning routine was on page 2 of the checklist; Noctis was listed first, always. Granted, even though he was _listed_ first, he was usually the last to get up, thereby disrupting the order slightly. Everyone knew that, Ignis included, and yet the routine page remained the same.  
  
Like any other morning, the adviser/driver watched everyone else pile into the car, then went down the checklist item by item before getting in himself. All present and accounted for, all supplies and equipment packed and ready. Satisfied, he offered only the slightest of smiles before getting behind the wheel and starting the engine.  
  
Twenty minutes into the car ride, Prompto’s right leg began moving back and forth. Just a little bit, moving to no particular rhythm. Twenty-two minutes in, and the rhythm was getting more predictable, faster and more noticeable. At twenty-eight minutes, he finally spoke up, “Guys. Can we stop?”  
  
Gladiolus sat forward, asking with some concern, “What? Why?”  
  
Oh, no. The big guy thought it was serious. Well, it _was_ serious, just not for the reasons he and everyone else were probably thinking. Prompto cleared his throat, deciding not to beat around the bush. “I, um. I gotta pee.”  
  
Noctis snorted, eyes half closed. “Are you serious?”  
  
The blond flailed slightly, turning to look back at the prince. “Look, I gotta!”  
  
“I thought you went before we left like everyone else!” Ignis was about to bring out the schedule again, then thought better of it. He was still driving, after all.  
  
“I did! But, I don’t know, I just– I have to again, okay?!” The blond attempted to not really defend himself. “And how the hell don’t _you_ , Ignis? You had, what? Coffee, tea _and_ milk?”  
  
“I am perfectly capable of bladder control, thank you.” The brunet responded, quickly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  
  
“I think we should probably stop, Iggy.” Gladiolus suggested. “I know how you feel about the leather interior and–”  
  
“Yes, yes.” Ignis sighed, not entirely amused by Noctis’ laughter.  
  
The Regalia hadn’t even come to a complete stop before Prompto jumped the door, scuttling away from the road and into some reasonably nearby bushes. After it seemed his friend was at a safe enough distance, Noctis leaned forward to ask their driver, “This gonna go on the checklist too?”  
  
“Absolutely.” There was no hint of a joke in the way Ignis folded his arms.  
  
“Oh this’ll be fun.” Gladiolus quipped, leaning as far back as his set allowed, head rolled back, staring at the sky.  
  
The prince snorted, finding the fact that they were waiting to be an excellent reason to do similarly, leaning back and closing his eyes; but even he was aware that the minutes were passing. Even a few moments more, and there was no sign of Prompto.  
  
As far as the brunet was concerned… there was a worse problem. It had started out as just an impulse, a silly thought not to entertain. Except… _except_. The gunner had put thoughts in his head and his body saw fit to play a joke on his mind, clearly. Sighing heavily, Ignis finally opened the car door and got out.  
  
“Hm? Gonna go rescue him?” The body guard asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Yes.” And as much as he _wanted_ to leave it at that, Ignis sighed once again. “And, it would appear, I may have to use the ‘outdoor facilities’ as well.”  
  
Noctis’ laughter could be heard from several yards away. Unfortunately, so could Prompto’s; he’d only been distracted by trying to get pictures of a herd of wild chocobos off in the distance.


	3. Favorite Trailer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first damn trailer, short as it was, had me. …Not just because Noctis snapped someone’s neck with his thighs, but that did not hurt. ALSO HAPPENS TO BE EXACTLY HALF THE REASON I GOT A PS3, HA HA HA.
> 
> Gotta admit, this is a mix of powerful angst and hopefully roughly as powerful fluff/humor. Just a moment in/out of time.

It started like so many things did: unexpectedly, after some comfortable silence. A camaraderie much appreciated after the stress, after battles and tension, invasion, before there came a point when _more_ was to follow. For the moment, it was only the prince and his friends; Prompto at the right, Gladiolus at the left, Ignis walking along behind if only due to the fact that he was thinking, plotting, had promised to come up with an Idea. While time was of the essence, there was no sense in _rushing_ such things.  
  
They were all merely walking down a hallway, the crisp, slightly echoing sounds of boots against stone and tile falling out of sync, sounding suddenly too familiar, too much like gunshots. It was a memory too fresh, senses still not fully cleared, the scent of blood, bile, magic and gunpowder in the back of everyone’s throats–  
  
“That was pretty impressive there, Noct.” Gladiolus’ first instinct had been to move their conversation as far away from what had just happened as possible. He ignored that, recognizing it as fear. They couldn’t afford to be afraid.  
  
Prompto picked up on the idea immediately, grasping on for dear life. “So, like. With your thighs.”  
  
Noctis sighed harshly. Internally, he smiled; _internally_ , he was thanking them, grateful, needy for the sort of conversation they’d grown accustomed to. But he was more than aware of exactly where the topic was headed. It had been more of an in-the-moment sort of thing, a split-second decision that hadn’t really required as much _thought_ as it did action.  He’d been momentarily drained of energy, unable to make use of the crystal, and something had to be done.  
  
“Dude, seriously. With your thighs.” The blond continued to pester, honestly having been quite impressed. And a little… frightened, considering.  Fear was all part of the background anymore, just a constant thing shoved as far into the back of is mind as he could manage.  
  
Even Ignis had momentarily been pulled from his thoughts, listening to the banter, curious as to what Noctis would ultimately say. He seemed quite content to avoid the subject altogether and keep walking–  
  
Which the body guard decided simply would not do. “So where’d you learn _that_ one, Noct?”  
  
Laughter. Laughter from _every one_ of them. Even if the tension was eased, it wasn’t gone; the laughs were short-lived but honest. Important. Particularly considering that Noctis had allowed the sound from himself as well. “Shut up, Gladio.”  A beat of silence, shoving away the idea that if he’d done nothing then he wouldn’t be walking with his friends.  Then came a truly _childish_ thought, nonsensical and ridiculous, but even so.  “We can’t all depend on our enormous swords to get us by, you know.”  
  
Ignis’ eye roll could very nearly be felt by everyone else, even if he likely wouldn’t admit to the little amused snort. Prompto barked out a surprised laugh, where Gladiolus himself laughed openly and smacked Noctis on the shoulder. “Some of us are just _gifted_.”  
  
“It’s not the size of the sword, right Iggy?” The gunner grinned, looking back.  
  
“It is indeed in how you use it.” The brunet didn’t miss a beat, glasses adjusted with swift efficiency. “Though I suppose there are special rules for weaponized thighs.”  
  
Another round of too-short but all too greatly appreciated laughs followed, a lift up from despair. Were it up to him, Noctis would spread his wings and ride upward on that current forever… but they’d arrived at the end of the corridors, the long hallway coming to an abrupt stop at a pair of enormous doors. Suddenly he felt a little uncomfortably like childhood and innocence stood on one side, adulthood and responsibility for the whole of a nation on the other.  
  
It was a choice.  He could run.  He had little doubt that his retinue would follow.  
  
No.  He would not balk. He wouldn’t hesitate; the future of more than just himself waited just beyond. Noctis turned, having noticed that everyone had pulled back a bit, observing, waiting. The nod he gave them was returned, smiled fading to determination.


	4. Versus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s, uh. …The darkest timeline..? Inspired mostly by many “what if” thoughts circling around the Versus era trailers, and a growing playlist of surprisingly cruel songs. Angst, blood, slightly disjointed thoughts, major character death, things definitely being not right. This is not a happy ending.

Opulent palace walls were still coated in blood, dried and flaking ruddy copper-red was no longer a compliment to the decor. The chandeliers and the grand table beneath them had joined as one. Elegant statues having lined walls and ceiling were shattered, smashed to stained bits. The marks of bullets and swords, of magic and desperation were clear everywhere.  
  
_My father stood here._ Noctis moved, carefully picking his way through rubble. Of course he knew where his father would be, at the head of the table. The then proud king.  
  
_The first gun was pulled here._ He looked over, certain of the location both due to his gut and simply how the utter destruction was laid out. How many men? Women. Guards, soldiers, innocent servants. How many? That wasn’t for him to figure out. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He _would_ know, he’d ordered the knowledge. That was simply the lot of a king; to know things they wished they didn’t, to do things they otherwise would never.  
  
Except.  Ah, right.  No, he never would know.  That was fine.  That was a decision he’d already made.  
  
Smiling bitterly to himself, Noctis’ eyes scanned the rest of the room. No, his father did not die there. He stood his ground, but wasn’t slain. Clever like a fox, he’d fought and escaped, _run_ because that was his own choice. Running the opposite direction from his son. Drawing attention.  
  
He felt his throat start to ache and close ever so slightly, vision momentarily getting blurry. His father hadn’t wanted this life for him. So much so that the old man had declared himself the _last_ king–  
  
Well surely that wasn’t to be. Noctis had taken it upon himself to accept the title, the mantle, the doom that came from using himself as a conduit for the energy from the crystal, had accepted his lot in life despite his father’s wish for him to live on his own terms. Those _were_ his own terms, truly and completely.  His terms merely changed over time.  Evolved.  They became… better.  They _became_.  Vision beyond what others could see; only his eyes were witness to the glorious light amidst the darkness, and only he could lead the way.  Direct the crystal.  Only he had the strength to coat his hands in the color of life.  
  
Cor had tried to stop him.  Had “recognized the madness” for “what it was”, in his own words.  Some of his last.  The man had tried to cut him down; it was only right that his death had been… extended.  He never did beg.  Regis would have been very proud.  
  
Even his friends had tried to stand in his way. There’d been begging at first, pleading with him not to take up the crown, not to claim the throne under his own name. They didn’t understand.  _He_ understood, assured them that he understood, but he still needed to do what he’d been born for, for the sake of Lucis. When they tried to physically fight him, to pull him back… well, that was a shame. A true and honest pain that still squeezed in his chest, ran thorny vines around his heart. They’d tried.  They’d tried because they loved him.  For that, he still loved them. For that, he’d made their ends quick.  (He should have apologized to Luna.  He’d lied to her.  There hadn’t been time to apologize; then there would have been time to feel fear.)  
  
His own father had appeared again shortly afterward, had returned out of hiding, despite reports that he had truly died. Not so; the Caelum line was a strong one, powerful. Difficult to kill. Noctis would certainly know that much.  
  
The king is dead. Long live the king.  
  
Turning, he swore in his heart, wrote out across his soul in his own blood, _I will honor your memories. I will not let this kingdom fall prey to the rest of the world._ He was, after all, the last. Noctis Lucis Caelum was the last king and the last living thing as far as he could see; and the light of the dead had gone dark so very long ago.  
  
Approaching his throne, he didn’t need to peer out the window to know that all was darkness outside. All would _always_ be. Taking a seat, he gave one last nod to himself, task completed.  Protective barriers fell.  The crystal fell dark, lost to despair.  All that remained was–  
  
Slumber.


	5. Favorite Bromance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to make up for yesterday’s angst with some more “slice of road trip life” fluffy stuff, apparently. My personal favorite? All four of them together. That’s my answer and I’m sticking to it.

There was such a deviously triumphant look across those handsome features, Noctis grinning openly as he snagged the last piece of bacon for himself. “You snooze, you lose?”  
  
Prompto simply _pointed_ at him. For a number of seconds. It wasn’t that he didn’t have a retort, he just… could not believe what he’d just witnessed. What had just happened. It was beyond all understanding of common decency and good behavior! “ _You_ were the one sleeping, Noct!”  
  
Okay, that was a point. He’d woken up a little late, gotten up even later, to find breakfast already waiting for him. And maybe that piece of bacon didn’t have his name on it specifically, but there was one surefire way to end the argument. “Well, I’m a prince.” And there it was, that ridiculously, accidentally _charming_ smile that just could not be argued with.  
  
All the gunner could do in response was silently _flail_ at him, standing up, taking a few steps away, and then flailing a bit more. There weren’t even words for that sort of injustice. He was appalled, maybe even deeply offended.  
  
Gladiolus slapped a hand onto Prompto’s shoulder. “Not very fair, is it?”  
  
“Not fair at all.” The blond pouted, crossing his arms and then just dropping away from the comforting hand and sitting where he stood, right on the rock beneath, legs folded. Arms still crossed.  
  
Ignis sighed loudly at the scene. Really, they were interrupting the pristine landscape around them. At least they’d made enough noise to distract from his chosen task; and the prize he offered, grasped carefully between two ungloved fingers as he approached. “Maybe this will make up for it, a bit.”  
  
“Hey, whoah!” The body guard’s shock wasn’t really feigned. He had to do a bit of a double-take before realizing that there was a piece of bacon in Ignis’ hand. Taken right out of their stock before it was time to do so. And being given freely. Too weird. “When did this favoritism start happening?”  
  
“It isn’t favoritism.” The adviser corrected, still holding the piece of bacon just out of Prompto’s reach. “It really _wasn’t_ fair of His Highness to take the last piece right out from under someone who, might I remind you, already ‘called it’.”  
  
Noctis’ only response was a light “hmph”, but he was a bit surprised, himself. He’d gotten the brunet to do similar things for reasons he’d already outlined in full (the term “royal brat” may or may not apply), but he wasn’t used to seeing that extended to others.  
  
Reaching up with open hands and a little whimper, Prompto was exceedingly loud with his enormously dramatic, “Thank you Iggy!”  
  
The smile was fleeting but freely offered, Ignis finally dropping the strip of crispy fried, cured meat low enough to reach. “You’re welcome. Though we’ll probably have to make an extra stop to even out our supply list.”  
  
Ignoring that last point, Gladio decided to press his luck a little. “So where’s _my_ extra piece of bacon?”  
  
Moving to wipe the grease from his hand, the brunet responded matter-of-factly, “I was feeling generous then. I’m not now.”  
  
Gladio snorted. “Well wow. How do I get a crown, then?”  
  
“Hard work or dedication or something.” Noctis shot back lazily, standing and stretching his back. “We about ready to head out?”  
  
“Just as soon as we work on getting everything packed up.” Ignis confirmed. “And the more people we have helping–”  
  
“Hey look at that, off in the distance.” The prince wasn’t _really_ loathe to help. After all, he was intent upon pulling his own weight… to a point. But he also kind of liked to see that little twitch under Ignis’ left eye when he said things like that.  
  
“'Kay.” Prompto stood up with little grace but swift effectiveness, wiped his hands on his jeans, and advanced toward Noctis. The prince was just too surprised to react, being hefted over the blond’s shoulder and carried like a potato sack. “Should we tie him to the front of the car or..?”  
  
“We are _not_ risking dents in the hood.” Ignis quipped. “You can put him in the trunk.”  
  
“Feeling the love here.” Noctis managed to sound just a bit like a displeased cat, plotting out where would be best to warp to.  
  
“Let’s feel the love a little further down the road, huh?” Gladiolus was already making quick work of getting the tent taken down.  
  
Ultimately, all the easiest spots to warp to were still likely to disrupt herds of various creatures coming alive with dawn. he could still _do_ it, but… “Seriously, Prompto, put me down.”  
  
The prince _was_ getting pretty heavy. Not that he wanted to show it. “Promise not to steal my bacon again?”  
  
“I don’t know if I can make that promise.” Noctis was a little overly honest.  
  
“Into the trunk you go!” Prompto chirped with enthusiasm.  
  
Packing up all of the dishware and utensils, Ignis sighed deeply. “Is our prince to be considered too lazy to remove himself from that sincerely undignified hold?”  
  
Gladiolus shrugged, his hand managing to get _inches_ away from Ignis’ hair before the man ever so elegantly moved aside just in time. “He’s got someone willing to carry him to the car. That’s probably your tactical influence at work, right?”  
  
That was a… very mild headache forming. And maybe an eye twitch. The adviser refused to acknowledge that much. “Honored.”


	6. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I’ve actually quite enjoyed about the Final Fantasy series: hope. Even at its worst, when all seems lost, when it feels like your heart’s been crushed into a million pieces, what remains is still hope no matter how bittersweet. So… this isn’t quite as angsty as it seems, honest.

What good was hope in a hopeless world?  
  
He wanted to laugh. Maybe it would have been more accurate to state that he wanted to cry; he wanted to to be able to do _something_ , but nothing came. Looking across the scarred landscape stretching out past the window, Noctis barely had the strength to swallow, let alone to _feel_ much of anything.  
  
They’d left him alone for a bit. His friends. It was Ignis’ suggestion; just to let him have a moment alone to process, to… to do whatever the hell it was that he was supposed to do. What was he supposed to do?  
  
Niflheim was under the impression that it had won with no resistance. Noctis… he wondered. He knew how _awful_ it was of him not to be screaming at the Nifi _bastards_ , not to have all of his heart and his soul immediately poured into the efforts to knock them back, to show them they hadn’t even begun to know victory. And yet. Temporarily, there was simply nothing after the surprise attack; rather, a surprise _decimation_.  
  
He had no idea how long he’d been standing there. His legs had gone numb along with his emotions, not even turning to look as gloved knuckles lightly rapped on the door behind him. That was certainly unwise.  
  
“Highness.” Ignis’ voice was soft, but not particularly comforting. Neither was the fact that he’d closed the door behind him, rather than left it open for the others. “You’re exhausted.”  
  
“Yeah.” There was nothing left but to agree. He was tired in ways that sleep wouldn’t cure. He should have been laughing.  
  
“Highness.” Softer still; much like the hand placed on one shoulder. Supporting. _Pleading_. “Noctis. You should get some rest.”  
  
He still didn’t turn to look. “Ignis. You’d always tell me the truth, wouldn’t you?”  
  
The question itself was concerning. “Of course I would.”  
  
Noctis nodded once, eyes staring out the window but focus far more distant. “Is there hope?”  
  
The answer wasn’t immediate. It was treated like any other question; it had to be weighed, the response properly thought out given his knowledge and experience, particularly as viewed through the person asking. “Yes. It’s right out in front of you.” Hand still resting lightly on Noctis’ shoulder, his other lifted to adjust his glasses. “Are you aware that there are seeds which don’t germinate until fire has charred the land they rest on?”  
  
Ignis’ pause before the response alone, possibly ironically, _did_ actually provide some comfort. There was a twitch of his lips, noted in his reflection in the glass. “Oh?”  
  
“The heat of the fire causes the protective layer to open.” Ignis continued, voice stronger. “The scorched earth surrounding the seed provides necessary nutrients to allow the plant to thrive.”  
  
_Finally_ Noctis turned slightly, not moving away from the contact. “You’re calling me a seed?”  
  
“I could call you a _weed_ instead.” The adviser’s retort lacked any true sharpness or irritation. “In a month’s time, after a rain, scorched ground becomes alive with new growth.”  
  
There was an answering snort, at first, exceptionally blue eyes returning to the window. “We’re weeds. The thorny kind.”  
  
“The enormously difficult kind, indeed.” Ignis agreed, a hint of a smile slipping through his voice as much as his expression. “With barbed thorns and waves of pollen at the slightest breeze.”  
  
It may not have been much of a sound at all, not something that necessarily would have registered as a laugh. Truthfully, Noctis himself couldn’t really classify it as a laugh or a sob; maybe both. That was… that was okay. That was the light and the rain, perhaps. “Right.”  
  
“But first…”  
  
“Rest?”  
  
The brunet’s smile was the slightest bit forced. Only slightly. “I can’t comment on the wisdom of weeds, but I believe you’ve got the point.” He drew his hand back, but didn’t move away. “We will all be ready when you are. And as close as you’d like us to be.”  
  
“Soon.” He assured, certain of that much. Glancing back at Ignis, he added before he thought better of it, “Close.”  
  
“Weeds indeed.” The adviser commented, giving a nod before turning to reassure the others. “Don’t be too much longer, hm? You’ll miss the turndown service.”  
  
“I’ll be right along.” Noctis promised, throat tight; but easing. One more look out the window, one more image to burn into his mind. Dark as it appeared outside, the sun had begun to rise once again over Lucis.


	7. Free Choice!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I felt that my choices today were angst, smut or crack. …I kind of accidentally went with crack-smut. Polyship crack. So. Whoops.

“Are you sure this is safe?”  
  
“What fun would it be if I were?”  
  
“Not reassuring.”  
  
“Sorry. Well, are you comfortable?”  
  
“Uh.”  
  
“We can move.”  
  
“ _Yes_ please move already, I’m getting a cramp.”  
  
“Big strong ox like you getting a little cramp from staying still?”  
  
“Are you even aware of what position I’m in right now?”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Maybe you should move.”  
  
“Then Prompto’s gotta move.”  
  
“ _Fine_.”  
  
“Wait. Then who’s wrist am I holding?”  
  
“That would be mine, Highness.”  
  
“Huh. Didn’t know cooking built up that much muscle.”  
  
“Keeping the rest of you away from the food before it’s done is what builds up the most muscle.”  
  
“Ow.”  
  
“Ow because the truth hurts or ow because–”  
  
“Ow because someone’s got a bony elbow!”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“Doing this in complete darkness is obviously a mistake.”  
  
“But it’s supposed to heighten senses.”  
  
“It’s heightening _something_ , but not in a pleasant way.”  
  
“Granted, I’m not sure how we’ll find the light switch now.”  
  
“Sensually feeling along the walls.”  
  
“That’s my back.”  
  
“And you’re kind of a wall.”  
  
“I guess that’s fair.”  
  
“Is this foreplay yet?”  
  
“I don’t think a single moment of this has counted as foreplay.”  
  
“Well– Yeah, okay, true.”  
  
“Now what?”  
  
“I suppose I could ignite a spark so we can find the light switch.”  
  
“Maybe it’s best not to play with fire quite so close to… you know. Necessary bits, Iggy.”  
  
“Some of us have _control_ over our powers.”  
  
“Ow.”  
  
“For the–”  
  
“Burn, yes. Well, not a literal burn, I mean–”  
  
“We got it, thank you.”  
  
A long, drawn-out pause interrupted the conversation. Then a soft, though distinctive, snore.  
  
“He’s asleep, isn’t he.”  
  
“He is indeed.  
  
"Should we just… move him aside or..?”  
  
“It would be distinctly rude otherwise, I think.”  
  
“We don’t want him to wind up rolling off the bed or anything though.”  
  
“It’s not like he’d feel it.”  
  
“Your concern for your prince is admirable.”  
  
“I just mean–”  
  
“Maybe he’s got the right idea. We can try this again when it’s a little less… pitch black.”  
  
“But he’s still kinda ‘ready’, if you know what I mean.”  
  
“Do not fondle the prince while he’s sleeping!”  
  
“I’m not _fondling_ him, I’m just… testing things.”  
  
“For the love of–”  
  
“Look, I’m just gonna finish myself off and go to bed, okay?”  
  
“Romance is dead.”  
  
“If I’d been aware romance was to be involved, I’d have purchased flowers first.”  
  
“Wine’s better for romance.”  
  
“I thought you were sleeping!”  
  
“I was. Hard to with all the chatter.”  
  
“So are we doing this or what?”  
  
“What the–who’s knocking?”  
  
“Room service!”  
  
“Who ordered room service?”  
  
“Don’t look at me!”  
  
“How can you tell we were looking at you?”  
  
“I just can!”  
  
“Well I suppose we may as well answer.”  
  
“Not like _this_.”  
  
“No, wrapped in a sheet. They’ll be sure to leave faster and ask fewer questions that way. Gladio, you do it.”  
  
“What? Why me?”  
  
“You look better in a sheet.”  
  
“For the sake of–”  
  
“Look, fine, okay, hold on.”  
  
“What… was that?”  
  
“Sounded like ripping.”  
  
“Did you rip the bedding?”  
  
“I couldn’t have!”  
  
“Just answer the door before our food disappears, okay!”  
  
“And how do you plan to pay for this?”  
  
“Uuuuuuh…”  
  
“Look, chill. Everyone hide, okay?”

* * *

Hotel legend tells of the man who wore one of the curtains to the door in order to receive room service, the room behind him completely dark. Everything was going relatively well until a thud was heard; the light from the hallway was more than enough to reveal a short, black-haired man having fallen out of the bed sheets with a snore. Seconds later, four sets of hands scrambled to pull him back under the blankets. The tale spread and became a bit of an urban legend.  
  
The tip was pretty decent, at least.


	8. Bonus Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s just a little stupid fluffy thing that popped into my head, and… I wanted to do a little flashback bit with Cor and Regis. So, uh. Well. I felt that I owed something slightly more “serious” than the last drabble. And this is. Very slightly. Dumb humor, really.

It wasn’t _technically_ patrol. He still walked the palace daily at the same time, making his own planned-out rounds to ensure that everything appeared safe. That was simply who he _was_ ; not to mention, it did make Cor feel a little better during those rare times when he did relax. Which, according to Regis, was never.  
  
The man he’d just been thinking of rather suddenly appeared from around a corner, looking as though he’d been sprinting quite a distance. “Cor. Have you seen Noctis?”  
  
Raising an eyebrow, the general admitted, “I haven’t. Why?”  
  
The king’s laugh was short mostly due to a slight lack of breath. “Ah, he– Well, he was in the bath. Then he warped. By accident, I think.”  
  
Cor’s lips pressed into an impossibly thin line. “You’ve lost him.”  
  
“He can’t be _far_.” Regis assured. “But you understand my concern. A nude five-year-old running around–”  
  
“In a palace full of dignitaries.” The other man finished dryly. Not really the best way to welcome guests to Lucis.  
  
Clearing his throat softly, Regis attempted to treat the entire event in a suitably serious manner. “Precisely. So if you _do_ happen to see Noctis–”  
  
A chorus of gasps and squeaks from down the hall interrupted them, from one of the kitchen entrances. Followed by one confused shriek, then a plethora of giggles.  
  
The king sighed with a fond look on his face. “Nevermind. As you were, Cor.”  
  
With a shake of his head, the general simply watched his king wait at the aforementioned door. Sure enough, a little boy most literally did streak out at speed, caught in his father’s arms and giggling madly. He just managed to hear the words as Regis scooped Noctis into his arms and proceeded to take him back from whence he’d escaped: “Best to grow out of that behavior sooner rather than later, son.”  
  
Cor was sure that rolling his eyes would be greatly undignified. He did it anyway. A little secret for himself alone.


	9. Another Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you could do anything. Go anywhere. What would you do?”
> 
> I kinda just wanted something simple and happy; relaxed, no consequences, the furthest thing from serious. So here’s the result.

“So.”  Noctis spoke up, interrupting a long, thoughtful silence by firelight.   It had been a long day full of nothing in particular save gathering resources; berries, mushrooms, doing a bit of hunting, finding some wild seasonings that came as a delightful surprise after their stock had been diminished.  And still, even with the mild exhaustion and comfortable warmth that the situation brought, all four of them had remained awake, enjoying the nighttime stillness.  
  
The prince continued as all eyes turned to him, stretching his arms above his head.  "If you could do anything.  Go anywhere.  What would you do?“  
  
"Is this a trick question?”  Gladio teased.  
  
Snorting, Noctis assured, “No.  It’s a… thought exercise.”  
  
Ignis’ raised eyebrow betrayed his thoughts on that subject.  "Surely we would always do what we were chosen and raised to do, _Highness_.“  
  
"Yeah, but what if?”   Prompto piped up, getting a nod of approval from Noctis.  "C'mon, Iggy, would you be a famous chef or something?“  
  
The brunet barely held back a sigh.   A _thought exercise_ , was it.  Well, no harm in that, he supposed; plus, he was decently certain that attempting to avoid the subject would only draw out the evening in a painful sort of way.  "I couldn’t assume that I’d be famous.  Honestly, I’m not even certain that I’d be a chef.”  
  
That drew a blink from Noctis.  "Really?  What would you be, then?“  
  
Ignis shook his head.  "I’d never given it much thought, to be honest.  Potentially something to do with research, perhaps.”  
  
“Can’t really see you in a kitchen or trapped in a library, Iggy.”  The bodyguard admitted, then laughed.  "Well, I mean no more than you are usually.“  
  
"Ha.”  The adviser commented dryly.  "What about you?  Equally trained and expected to fulfill a duty.  What might _you_ be, otherwise?“  
  
Gladiolus clicked his tongue quietly, supposing he deserved the question turning on him.  He couldn’t think of many other possibilities, himself.  "Well… guess I’d be a decent personal trainer…”  
  
“Yeah, but do you _want_ to do that?”   Prompto asked, sincerely curious.  
  
“No.”  Gladio admitted with a chuckle.   “I guess… I don’t know.  Some kind of wildlife expert?  I mean, that’d involve a lot of camping.”  
  
Noctis laughed.  "So far the two of you could be a research team in another life.“  
  
"And I’d be the photographer.”  The blond grinned.  
  
“Is that really the only other thing you’d like to do?”  Ignis asked, not meaning to be overly harsh.  It seemed entirely too simplistic, but then that may have been an ironic thought.  
  
“Well… yeah.”  The gunner’s admission came with a shrug.  "I mean, a _famous_ photographer would be pretty great, but that’s about it.“  
  
"Nothing wrong with that.”  Noctis chimed in.  
  
“I guess I could photograph models.”  Prompto continued with a mild grin, then an all-out laugh when Gladiolus took the opportunity to flex and pose.  He supposed he might as well take advantage of the opportunity, having pulled out his camera to capture the memory.  Nevermind that he was pretty sure he had dozens more of the same.  
  
“So what about _you_ , Noct?”  The bodyguard prodded directly, relaxing in his chair again.  "If you weren’t, you know, born into this by blood?“  
  
"Professional sleeper?”  The prince suggested, getting chuckles for his effort.  Of course that was far from a serious answer, but… actually, he’d had time to think.  On several occasions.   And every time, he felt less and less sure.  There wasn’t a set answer in his mind, and as his gaze fell in thought, there seemed even less of a chance for him to come to any conclusion, even in an imaginary world that would never come to pass.  Still, he did know those eyes were on him, and he’d asked.  The least he could do was answer.  "Something as boring and mundane as you could get.   While still being on this research trip of yours.“  
  
"That’s not an answer.”  Ignis accused, but he was intrigued by it regardless.  
  
Noctis shrugged.  "I don’t know, maybe I could… tag animals for tracking or something.  Warp around and tag them before they knew I was there.“  
  
"But if you were ‘mundane’ you wouldn’t have that power.”  Gladiolus pointed out.  
  
“Well we’re talking about an imaginary world that doesn’t exist anyway.”  The prince made the attempt to get out of that perfectly logical argument.  
  
“Noct, seriously.”  Prompto insisted.  
  
“I’d sell ice cream in Altissia.”  The answer flowed forth so easily and suddenly that Noctis hardly knew it came from him initially.  He could feel the slightly stunned blinks of his friends.  "Well.  I’d get to eat as much as I wanted, right?“  
  
The blond snorted.  "I will totally accept that answer.  We’d go on research missions and come back to get ice cream.”  
  
“Maybe I’d provide ice cream for the research missions.”  The prince certainly sounded perfectly reasonable.  
  
“Okay.”  Gladiolus finally hefted himself out of his chair.  "Now that I actually kind of like this little 'other life’ we’ve got going, it’s clearly time for bed.“  
  
"Aww, don’t you want to talk about our alternate lives some more?”  Prompto mock-whined.  "I bet you go around wrestling things for research.  I’d get the evidence.“  
  
Ignis chuckled quietly in spite of himself.  "I’d clearly be recording the results.  'Another animal unnecessarily startled.’”  
  
Noctis laughed a bit more.  "'Had to give it ice cream and send it on its way.’“  After a moment, finding himself unable to stop the light smile on his face, it didn’t take much to give in.   "Yeah, time for bed.”  
  
They collected their chairs and packed up for the night, Ignis going over the checklist and Gladiolus securing everything in need of being tied down in case the wind picked up again.  Noctis and Prompto tidied a bit before, predictably, the prince was the first in the tent.  
  
The gunner followed close behind him, sparing a moment to wrap an arm around Noctis’ shoulders.  "You really think we’d still be friends in another life?“  It wasn’t a… serious question.  He hadn’t meant for it to be.  Though it was quieter than a jest, feeling more important.  
  
The answering smile was subtle but bright at once, response almost too obvious to give voice to.  "No doubt.”


	10. Making Things Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’d all looked worried. He couldn’t blame them; he sounded like a stark raving lunatic to himself, too.

They’d all looked worried.  He couldn’t blame them; he sounded like a stark raving lunatic to himself, too.  
  
Going back to Insomnia for the Crystal after they’d gained far more power made sense, of course.  It’d been a long journey, but they were ready to go home; to take back their home and lay claim to it once again.  That part was good, that part made sense.  
  
It was when Noctis slipped up about how they couldn’t let it happen “like before” that started the worried looks.  He’d covered, explained that he was just mumbling tired nonsense due to being unable to sleep well the night before.  And that would have been gladly accepted…  
  
Except. He’d known about too many things.  What not to eat at a particular street vendor.  When to attack and when to hide while they were trying to take a Nifi fortress.  Weather patterns.  Even exactly how they were going to get attacked during one battle in particular, making short work of what should have been a long, arduous battle.  
  
Ignis had been the one to finally confront him.  Noctis attempted to divert, then outright deny; except that he _couldn’t_ anymore. Prompto and Gladiolus weren’t willing to let him drop the subject, and finally tiredness and frustration broke free what he swore was the truth:  "This is… this is the second time we’ve–   _I’ve_.  Done this.“  
  
The adviser blinked.  Everyone remained silent until Ignis gathered his faculties, pressed, "Done what, exactly?”  
  
The prince sighed raggedly, one hand idly reaching for his hair.  He combed through the locks, trying to find a way to explain.  Really, the only thing he could think to do was to be blunt.  "I know, I _know_ how this sounds, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been here.  Done this.  We… all have.  But only I remember.“  
  
Prompto felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  That was a joke, it had to be.  Except that the haunted look in Noct’s eyes was… much too real.  Different.   _Changed_.  "What… are you talking about?”  
  
Rough hands with a soft grip landed on the prince’s shoulders, Gladiolus not hiding his concern.  "Assuming you didn’t just go off the deep end on us… what happened ‘the first time’?“  
  
Hardness settled over Noctis’ features.  But it didn’t last, let out in a trembling sigh.  "It didn’t work out.”  
  
“H-how?” The gunner had asked even before he was sure he wanted to know, looking to Ignis; and making note that the adviser had nothing to offer.  Not a thing.  Not comforting.  "I mean… _how_ didn’t it work out?“  
  
The prince’s expression was too pained to accuse him of making it all up.  "Everybody died.”  
  
“Then.”  Ignis finally spoke up, barely beyond a whisper.  "How are you here?  Remembering?“  
  
Minutes passed.  It appeared as if Noctis simply wasn’t going to answer before it came out as a breath, quieter than Ignis’ voice had been.  "I sacrificed the world so I could try to save it.”  A pause.  A swallow.   “So I could save all of you.”

 

* * *

 

It was a heavy thing to live with.  Noctis had already known, but the others… didn’t bear the weight easily.  The questions they asked went unanswered: what was meant by “sacrifice”, what was it that they had to do differently, how did they die.  Gladiolus had asked the last question.  The prince hadn’t spoken to him afterward for days; not out of anger.  Every time he looked at the man, he simply couldn’t speak.  Neither Ignis nor Prompto made the same mistake.  
  
Even with the added tension, the mystery, they managed to move as one, to make their way back to their homeland to stand before the Citadel.  Prepared for the fight of their lives, quite literally; a fight for the world.  
  
They stormed the palace with ferocity, the clash of metal and something like crashing ocean waves from the rush of blood that came with magic of that high a level the only things heard as they pushed their way through–  
  
But the others hadn’t expected to follow Noctis directly to the Crystal chamber.  The moment they stood inside, he gave the order to lock and guard the door, swords spinning around him in streaks of transparent silver, the portrait of determination.  
  
“Noctis.”  Ignis couldn’t describe or explain why he felt panic, but their king was headed toward the Crystal with his swords becoming increasingly solid…  "What are you doing?“  
  
"Making things right.”  He had to.  It was terrifying and went against everything the Lucian kings believed, but he _had_ to.  
  
“ _Noctis_!”  Gladiolus stormed forward, weapon in hand, ready to deflect as many of those damn swords as he had to in order to stop what it looked like their new king was going to do.  
  
The swords dissipated, shattered into light as haunted blue eyes turned to him.  "I have to.   _Now_ , I have to, or _everything is going to happen again_.  I don’t think the crystal has enough power to send me back again, Gladio–“  
  
"Noctis, you can’t.”  Even though Prompto’s voice was soft compared to the others, the pleading in it cut through.  "You just… this is what we’ve been protecting.  Right?  What we’ve been fighting for?  The whole reason… for everything…“  
  
The new king swallowed down his emotion, staring at his friend before looking back to the Crystal.  They all heard it, saw it; the Crystal itself was resonating, starting to change color.   Something outside was interfering with it, causing power to fluctuate.  "We don’t have time for this anymore!  I’m sorry, I wish I could explain, but this is _right_.  I know it, I _feel_ it with everything I have and everything I am; I need to do this!  Please, _please_ …”  He heard his voice break, felt as if something else inside of him was crumbling to the ground.  "Stand with me.“  
  
For one tight, tense, painfully long moment, Noctis honestly thought he’d gotten it wrong.  Maybe he _was_ crazy, or maybe the alternate past really had nothing at all to do with his current present.  They could all be very different people.  No longer with faith in him… or worse.  Maybe he no longer deserved their faith.  
  
And then stiffly, quietly, he heard them all behind him.  It was Ignis who finally spoke, voice shaky.  "What do you need, Your Majesty?”  
  
Only relief caused the shaky chuckle, Noctis shaking his head.  "All of you.  Your powers, we… we have to…“  And even then he couldn’t say it.  Prompto had been so right; they’d dedicated their lives to protecting the Crystal, and now…  
  
Swords spun again.  Glistening, transparent, ethereal.  He could feel rather than see Gladio’s sword added to the mix, Ignis’s knives, Prompto’s guns.  He didn’t need to tell them to stay close, all of them huddled against him, feeling the energy build to the point of nearly breaking, to the point of shared physical pain.  Noctis pulled everything he could from himself, from the part of the Crystal that would still respond to him, building until he felt his entire body might sear with the power before unleashing it in a single point, letting it go, and with that–  
  
He shattered the Crystal completely.


	11. Return to Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were four of them. Technically. There were four forms, four people in the car, four people sitting around a camp fire. The four of them, as there always were.
> 
> (…I will have you know that I actually hurt myself writing this.)

There were four of them.  Technically.  There were four forms, four people in the car, four people sitting around a camp fire.  The four of them, as there always were.  
  
Save that one of them was simply not present.  In form, maybe, but…  
  
It was still a mess, in their minds; Prompto had been screaming in pain, leg completely shattered, Ignis couldn’t see because of the blood in his eyes (it was only blood, wasn’t it? only blood, that’s why he couldn’t see, only blood–), Gladio had been throw hard and far enough not to be seen by any of them and simply wasn’t able to get back up afterward, but Noctis–  
  
Noctis.  The last they’d truly seen of him.  He’d been _glowing_.  There’d been a sound, though no one had been sure if it was a scream, a cry, or laughter.  Maybe a name in a language none of the rest knew.  It probably didn’t matter.  It was any or all, or imagined.  
  
The fight had been brutal, vicious.  And, really, they’d been defeated.  The death blow was coming to all of them, had been in the process of striking, and then… Noctis.  Whatever he’d done, it had given him the strength to turn the tide, to heal everyone and destroy the enemy in one burst of excruciatingly bright light.  
  
It had also left him empty.  He was a living, breathing body, following along with them, walking,  fighting, doing what needed to be done by seeming reflex, but once intelligent blue eyes were little more than windows into an abyss.  Nothing.  
  
That had been a week ago.  Prompto felt like his “silent scream” patches were more than a little appropriate.  It was how he felt every day since; to see his best friend reduced to such nothingness… and it made him angry.  Angry because he knew people who never got to know Noctis would have quipped that there was no difference.  His friends knew.  His friends _knew_ , and it _killed_ them to see him so non-responsive.  The hope that he’d get better…  
  
“Prompto.”  Ignis’ soft voice startled him, giving an apologetic but dishonest smile in return.  "You should come eat.“  
  
” _He_ hasn’t eaten yet.“  The blond answered softly.  "Just… give me a few more minutes to try.  Okay?”  
  
The adviser sighed and nodded.   There were some things that Noctis wouldn’t do on his own, or only rarely; though he seemed to “come around” a bit more often for Prompto than the rest of them.  That was little comfort.  Ignis left the tent as quietly as he came, finding his own stomach unpleasantly tight.  
  
Steeling himself so that his lip wouldn’t quiver when he looked back at what the prince had become, Prompto suddenly jerked back with a blink.  Noctis was looking at him.  Not just _through_ him, but _at_ him, only… it wasn’t Noctis.  There was something too… different about the eyes, the expression.  What it could have been–  
  
“Hello, Prompto.”  
  
And no, that definitely wasn’t the right… tone?  Accent?  The blond didn’t know.   _His_ voice, but _not him_ , eyes narrowed as he felt a swell of bravery in asking, “Where’s Noctis?”  
  
Whatever inhabited the prince’s form had the decency to look surprised; then smiled softly.  Sadly.  "I’m afraid Noct made a… bargain.“  
  
Prompto swallowed.  For some reason he didn’t even think to question the validity of the statement, as if he simply understood whatever answered him could inherently be trusted.  "Who?  Or… with _what_?”  
  
Noctis’ head shook, but it certainly wasn’t him moving.  "Too much to explain, I’m sorry.  I haven’t got much time here; I’m trying to protect him.“  
  
"Yeah?”  The gunner asked, voice shaky with the slightest hope.  "And… you are..?“  
  
"Carbuncle.”  The being smiled through the prince’s body, somehow radiant.  "At least, that’s what you humans call me, isn’t it?  No matter; you must know that he does still exist.  Somewhere.“   There was a pause, a slightly awkward attempt at trying to move some of the hair that had fallen in front of his face with hands the Astral wasn’t completely familiar with.  "Whether he can come back to you…”  
  
He recognized the name.  Noctis had spoken of Carbuncle on occasion.  But the… rest…  Prompto tried not to react at all, reaching to gently tuck those bangs behind the prince’s ear.  "You mean… he’s not here.  And he… might not be again.“  His chest ached.  
  
There was a deeply sad expression on the prince’s face.   "I’m sorry.  I can’t force him back against his will… and he’s determined.”  
  
Of course he was.  The smile was forced.  "Can we help him somehow?“  
  
"This is a matter beyond humans.”  Carbuncle admitted, sounding a bit regretful.  "I suppose I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but… Noct insisted.  He wanted you to know.“  
  
That got a slightly more honest smile from Prompto.  "And the others?”  
  
“Tell them if you wish.  If you feel it would ease their minds.”  
  
He didn’t know.  But he couldn’t very well hide it from them.  "I… think I will, yeah.  But, I mean.  What can we do?  Like, for now?“  
  
A rueful smile returned to the prince’s face.  "Try to keep this vessel safe.  And I will try to keep Noct safe for you.”  
  
Why did that… hurt so much…  "I–  Yeah, we will.  I mean.  Um, please.  Can… can I hug you?“  
  
The blink was sheer surprise.  "Me?  Or Noctis?”  
  
Prompto’s laugh was a little high pitched, a bit manic.  A bit _panicked_ , but in truth there was little to be done.  "Both.   But… mostly you.  I just…“  
  
Tilting his head, Noctis’ expression took on curiosity before acceptance, "Of course.”  
  
It was too tight.  The blond knew the hug was too tight, was one of those that Noctis would have given him a hard smack on the shoulder for, but at that moment… he was clinging.  Desperately.  Trying to keep himself together, to keep breathing, not to cry as he finally forced himself to let go.  "Please try.  I mean, I know you will, just…“  
  
"I’ll do my best, Prompto.”  A promise and a nod.  "Know that he loves you all.  Know that he fights for you.“  
  
"Yeah.”  He was losing it, losing the battle, feeling tears stinging.  "We love him too.  Tell him, okay?  No matter what happens…“  
  
"I will.”  The words were rushed.   “I’m sorry, I have to go.”  
  
“Okay.”  The gunner hesitated to wipe his eyes, not wanting Noctis to see.  That thought was ridiculous and impossible, he knew, but…  "We believe in you.  Both.“  
  
And just like that, as quickly as it had come, the light disappeared from the prince’s eyes again.   Empty.  
  
Gladiolus didn’t disturb him when he came to check moments later, finding Prompto with his arms around Noctis, whimpering softly.  It was worth a little bit of heartbreak to have a little bit of hope when the blond told them what happened later.  
  
Their duties remained the same, after all: protect the prince.  Keep him alive so that Noctis could return to them.  Someday.


	12. Light, Prince, Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now that you mention it. Want to go see the frogs?”

Noctis had insisted on setting up camp a bit before sunset, near a lake.  None of the rest of the group had thought anything about it, really; they all believed that they could use a little extra time to relax, and the scenery was nice.  They had meat, vegetables, spices, plenty of supplies…  
  
And then Prompto heard it first: the frog croak.  He broke into a grin and instantly slapped Noctis on the shoulder.  "So _that’s_ why.“  
  
The prince looked at him cooly before finishing with his work, setting up the chairs and making sure the ring of stones for the fire was more or less solid.  Only after that, dusting his hands off on his pants, did he suggest, "Now that you mention it.  Want to go see the frogs?”  
  
There was a roll of eyes from the gunner, though he took hold of Noctis’ wrist and practically dragged him down to the lake.  It was cute as hell to watch the prince look both completely unaffected and yet still totally excited over the frogs, and he wasn’t going to waste a single minute.  
  
Of course, that left Ignis and Gladiolus to finish setting up for the night, the former sighing not so very quietly as he continued to get their makeshift “kitchen” together.  "And off goes our supposed help.“  
  
"They’ll be back when they’re hungry.”  The bodyguard advised, getting the tent together.  "You know what he’s doing down there, don’t you?“  
  
"Frogs.”  The adviser grinned lightly to himself, using a touch of fire magic to get the cooking started.  
  
“Bonding with his dad.”  Gladiolus added more than corrected, a gently respectful hush falling for a few seconds after.  Then they heard a splash, and Prompto’s half-bitten-off curse.  "And being an idiot with his friend.“  
  
Ignis snorted, taking a look at his supply list before getting ingredients together.  "They both did very well today.  They more than earned a little frog catching expedition.”  
  
“Hope neither of them insists on us having a pet.”  Gladio chuckled, testing the lines and poles to make sure the tent was properly secured.  "How many times have we had to talk them both out of a chocobo?“  
  
"They weren’t serious.”  The brunet dismissed, starting to chop up the vegetables in an effort to hide them from the prince by getting them out of the way first.  
  
“ _You_ didn’t have to convince them that a chocobo definitely wouldn’t fit in the back seat even if the top was down.”  
  
Ignis looked up from his chopping, hands stilled, to look for a joking smile on Gladiolus’ face.  He found none.   _Oh_.  "Maybe we should establish the rule of no pets while traveling.“  
  
"Sounds good.”  The bodyguard chuckled, walking over to observe for a moment.  Then they heard a resounding splash and Noctis’ decidedly victorious shout.  Must have caught one.  After a long moment of silence, he commented softly, “He’s still a kid, you know.”  
  
It seemed a little as if the adviser may not have heard him, going on with his duties for quite a long while before responding.  "As are we all, in truth.  We may have been prepared for this life, but… we lack a great deal of experience.“  
  
Crossing his arms, Gladio summarized, "We’re all still a little wet behind the ears.”  
  
“If that’s how you’d like to phrase it.”   The brunet agreed with some amusement.  "We’ve a long way to go, all of us.“  
  
Which was a sentiment only accented by another splash and Prompto’s long, drawn-out sound of loss.  Followed by the prince’s chuckle.  Gladiolus shook his head and didn’t even bother to look.  "You sure we’ll make it?”  
  
“Positive.”  Ignis couldn’t help the grin on his face as he began to cook the vegetables.  
  
At that point, there was quite a lot more splashing from the lake, then Prompto’s slightly shrill call of, “Wait, wait!  Don’t move, you’ll–”  Followed by a much louder splash and a groan.  
  
Well, that really quite demanded that the adviser and the bodyguard finally look over, discovering Noctis sitting shoulder-deep in water, even his hair soaked.  His supposed best friend was standing off to the side uselessly, both hands over his mouth as if he were trying to hold in a laugh.  It didn’t work, clearly, bringing about a glare.  
  
“That’s… who we’ve sworn our lives to, huh.”  
  
Ignis snorted in spite of himself, watching the crown prince stand up and shake some of the water off himself–then barely looked away in time to keep Noctis from seeing that his adviser had been staring and smirking.  "That is our light, Gladiolus Amicitia.  Our prince, and our friend.“  
  
Well, he wasn’t about to argue.  "And still a kid.”  
  
No argument came from the brunet, either.  Instead, he considered the situation before stirring the vegetables, turning down the heat slightly.  "Nothing wrong with keeping some youth about us, hm?“  Even though he knew that he would be the one to handle drying those clothes properly… seeing Noctis in a playful mood was well worth the effort.  If only he would attempt to eat more vegetation. 


	13. It Goes Both Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close calls, low inventory, and doing what they can.

“‘Sfine.”  
  
“It’s not.  It _wasn’t_.”  Noctis corrected softly, eyes bright and intense as he willed the gunner to meet his gaze evenly.  "I can… take that better than you can…“  
  
Prompto shook his head; then stopped abruptly, one hand going to his forehead.  No, no movement, not a good idea.  At least his mind had cleared up a bit, even if speech on his tongue was still a little thick and slow.  It was better.  Talking didn’t make the others look scared anymore.  "You’re… _you_.  I had one remedy and one potion, so…”  
  
“So you used both on me and you’re still suffering.”  The prince corrected flatly.  He wasn’t admonishing, not really.  He understood, and to a point maybe it all would have been flattering, except…  
  
“'Sokay.”  The gunner insisted.  "Iggy said I’ll be good tomorrow.“  
  
"Good enough to travel in the car.”  Noctis tried not to be angry.  He really wasn’t angry at Prompto, just the situation itself, but that was difficult to communicate when the whole incident still made him feel so… small.  "Not up to fighting.“  
  
"I can shoot from the car.”   The blond insisted with a face that was entirely too serious.  
  
He didn’t mean to laugh.  Actually, the prince didn’t want to laugh, to make it all seem okay.  It wasn’t okay, it wasn’t - but there was suddenly an undeniable silly grin on his friend’s lips even with the pain and discomfort in his expression.   “Don’t… do that again.”  
  
Opening his mouth to respond, Prompto stopped when he felt his hand being squeezed.  Not too tight, and the fact that he could feel his extremities again was great to begin with; it was just enough to be assuring.  To let him know little bits and pieces about what resided behind the brilliant blue eyes that were staring at him so intently, as if they expected him to stop breathing at any moment.  "Can’t make any promises.“  
  
There was little more to do than snort at the ridiculousness of the response.  "I know.”  
  
Ridiculous was good.  Important.  But more important was protecting his friend, the prince, the king and the future of all things.  "You know… you could have left m–“  
  
"No.”  It wasn’t that Noctis’ voice had raised, tone not becoming overly harsh.  The word was simply so final, so commanding, every bit the king he was born to be.  No one would be left behind.  Ever.  
  
“R-right.”  The gunner averted his eyes, feeling more than a little in the wrong.  He knew he wouldn’t have been left behind if there was a choice, but what if one day–  And then something crinkled, pressed into his hand.  "Hm?  What’s this?“  
  
"Extra dessert.”  The prince responded nonchalantly, leaning back on the hotel bed.  
  
So his brain wasn’t quite as up to speed as he’d hoped.   Prompto practically felt the gears turning as he reasoned things out; they’d gotten a pretty decent motel room for the night, spending a little extra on food and some fancy brownies.  Ignis had only bought one for each of them, and the blond was definitely sure he’d finished his share as soon as his appetite had come back.  He sort of hazily remembered Ignis and Gladio friendly-arguing over favorite desserts while they were indulging in their own, but what he didn’t remember was Noctis unwrapping his…  "What?  Hey, no, you definitely–“  
  
"Just eat the damn thing, okay?  It’ll make me feel better and I won’t yell at you.”  The prince mock-snapped, not quite keeping a little grin away from his lips.  "I’d just… rather you had it.  This time.  You can pay me back later.“  
  
Licking his lips, Prompto nodded once.  "Yeah, okay.   So long as we don’t tell Iggy about this.”  
  
“He’ll think I’m dying if I refuse dessert.”  Noctis commented entirely too seriously.  
  
“And Gladio’ll make me do more push-ups or something.”  The blond grumbled, slowly unwrapping the treat.  
  
“So, our secret.”  A better one to keep than most.

And even though Prompto had accepted the offer, Noctis didn’t argue when the brownie was broken in half to be split between them.


	14. Casting Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light does not necessarily inherently mean _good_ for everyone.

_I have suffered everything…_  
  
The cracking of stone and the rumble of the entire world beneath them was clear.  Terrifying; despite all the power he held, he still felt so small.  
__  
To be right here…  
  
A cry from his right, and immediately healing energy flooded through all of them.  They had to keep at it, not much longer, despite the aching and sweating, attack attack–  
  
_In this moment…_  
  
It was the last of their strength, physical and emotional.  The last of everything they had in them, but when they broke through, when they vanquished their opposition and enemy with an anguished groan of defeat, it was over.  
  
_And I won’t let this happen again._  
  
Victory was bitter along with sour and sweet; everything that stretched out behind him, everything lost or taken, abandoned or attempted to be forgotten, everything _gone_ littered the path at their backs.  Those were the things which made the path in the first place.  
  
He smiled.  It was over.  It was over, and because of that…  "I’m sorry.“  
  
Ignis turned to the king, exhaustion and confusion immediately overcoming the thrill of victory.  "Noct..?”  
  
Stabbing his Greatsword into the rubble before them, Gladio did what he could to hold himself steady.  Calm.  "Why the apology?“  
  
As for Noctis himself, he smiled.  It was thin and tired, weak; everything he felt in that instant.  An echo of itself, despite the potential power which remained.  "I… I have to go.”  
  
Prompto didn’t bother trying to reason it out, to pretend to be calm.  He felt panic constricting his chest, his throat, his friend’s smile so… empty…  "Go?  Where?“  
  
The smile faltered.  Noctis imagined that he looked as old as he felt, suddenly.  "Where… I belong.”  
  
That was when all pretense of certainly and assuredness dropped from Ignis, terror clear in his expression.  "Noct.   _Noctis_.   You–“  
  
He swayed slightly, looking a bit drunk.  Already starting to let go.  He hadn’t meant to, not so soon, but the strength and energy to keep himself together, connected to the physical realm, was suddenly harder and harder to grasp.  "I’m the one.  Aren’t I?  I’ve… fulfilled…”  
  
“ _Noctis_.”  Gladiolus reached out for him, grasped his shoulders.  Felt no real resistance.  Their king was cold to the touch and limp even as he was alive and standing right there, _right there_ …  
  
“Hey.”   Prompto tried, moving closer, waving a hand in front of Noctis’ eyes.  They didn’t follow the movement.  Hardly focused.  "Hey, you still have your entire life ahead of you.“  
  
"I don’t.”  He argued, words wheezing.  Sickly.  It was… already…  "I _can’t_ , I refuse it.“  
  
Gladio shook him.  He didn’t mean to, but the panic was starting to overwhelm, to cloud training and good sense.  "What the hell are you talking about?”  
  
“Power.  Heirs.  This ends here.”  Noctis responded calmly.   Almost but didn’t quite look at his brothers.  "This ends now.“  And then–  
  
There was light.  Bursting, exploding.  Something hot and bright and quite beyond the simple sort of light that any of them had experienced before.  Their king suddenly looked as though he were _becoming_ a star…  
  
The light just kept getting brighter, to the point where closing their eyes wasn’t working.  It was brightness so far past their understanding, beyond merely physical, that turning around and trying to tuck their heads into their arms wasn’t working.  It became pain, searing, inescapable–  
  
Tears streaming down his cheeks from the pain this "light” had begun to cause them, Ignis finally turned to open his eyes.  He… saw.  He _saw_ Noctis there.  A king made of light, and while there was physical pain to look upon it… there also wasn’t.  Cold, numbness.  Noctis’ form looking back at him.  Smiling sadly.  He couldn’t _see_ that, but he also _saw_ it was there.  What perception was this?  
  
_Ignis._  
  
“I won’t stand here and let you do this.”  
  
_Good.  You’ll need that conviction._  It was almost… laughter, that sound.   _I expect to meet you all again someday._  
  
He felt his stomach drop to his knees.  The light became a beam, shooting upward, light slowly dimming as it moved away from him, away from _them_.  "How?“   _How do we find you?  How do we… do this without you..?_  
  
The fading image of Noctis shook his head.  No answer.  He didn’t know, he just… felt it… knew it.  These things he knew and didn’t know how.  He was sorry to leave, sorry to abandon mortality, his physical form, his disconnected consciousness.  
  
It was simply time for a new tale to be told.


	15. Glorious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The real ice cream shop AU._

He really couldn’t help but look over; it had been another ludicrously slow day, his father insisting the shop be open even when the chill hadn’t quite worn off of spring yet.  The three men entering a clearly marked ice cream parlor didn’t seem to be a mistake, and customers were definitely more interesting than leaning heavily on the counter and waiting for his lunch break.  They were new faces, even, no one he’d seen before (and he definitely would have remembered).  
  
“Yes, they’re really open!”  The blond shouted, spiked hair bouncing slightly with the rest of him as he bounded over to look at all the flavors in the case.  
  
“Um.  Menu’s up here.  If the writing’s hard to read.”   Noctis pointed out the large menu above him.  "Chocolate peppermint’s out, but everything else should be there.“  Granted, he might have been the _reason_ for that particular flavor of ice cream being out, but he could blame his father just as much.  
  
While the blond stared up at the menu with wide eyes and seemed to require some careful determination about what he wanted, the brunet with totally different spiked hair and glasses peered up with a little nod.  "In that case.  I would like coffee chocolate chip in a waffle cone, please.  One scoop.”  
  
Then there was the big guy, running his hand over the back of his neck and grinning a little as he decided on, “Medium classic sundae without the whipped cream for me, please.”  
  
Well they were easy to please, at least.   “Got it.”  Noctis assured, moving to grab the waffle cone first.  "Decide what you want?“  He prodded the blond, unable to stop himself from smiling a little at the absolute seriousness he saw on the freckled face.  
  
"Ah.  Um.   Hot chocolate ice cream?”  He questioned, unsure.  
  
“Oh, yeah.”  A little wave was given to the ice cream case.  "My dad’s idea.  Chili chocolate ice cream with marshmallows.  It’s pretty good.“  
  
"That one.”  The blond declared, smiling.  "Two scoops in a cake cone, please.“  
  
Noctis nodded and started on their orders, the motions mostly automatic.   Enough that he remembered it had been insisted that he chat up customers, especially on slow days.  "So you guys new here or..?”  
  
“New and passing though, after an extended stay.”  The brunet with the glasses responded, taking a seat on one of the stools at the counter and starting to count out money after a quick mental estimate.   “We’re currently on an expedition to catalog a wide variety of creatures in the area.  I suppose we’re here to celebrate the first week.”  
  
“An _expedition_.”   Noctis repeated.  "Sounds a lot more interesting than being stuck here.  Except for the whole free ice cream thing.“  
  
"Hey, maybe we need an official ice cream provider.”  The blond piped up entirely too enthusiastically.  
  
Which got the absolute mountain of a man to chuckle, reaching out to ruffle that unnaturally spiked hair.  "Pretty sure he’s got better things to do than follow us around with ice cream.“  
  
"Kind of not, actually.”  Noctis admitted with a little snort, handing the brunet his order before returning to work.  
  
“Really?”  The blond prodded, reaching to grab entirely too many napkins to split between them.  "I mean… ice cream.“  
  
Much as he had a point…  "Not glamorous.  Not _bad_ , just.  Yeah.  Only hot fudge on the sundae, or..?”  
  
“Make it as glamorous as you can.”  The large man grinned.  
  
Noctis laughed a little unexpectedly.  Make a sundae _glamorous_ , sure.  Well that included hot fudge, peanut butter, caramel and strawberry sauce, as far as he was concerned, omitting the whipped cream as requested… then he took a moment to look around.  He knew he’d seen some - ah.  "Glamor" required a dusting of multicolored “sparkle sprinkles”, nodding to himself at the slightly ridiculous result before sliding the dish over.  
  
“Sure there’s ice cream under that?”  The blond teased.  
  
“It’s just really well-dressed ice cream.”  Noctis responded flippantly as he moved to get the last order ready, a little surprised to receive a quiet sound of amusement from the brunet.  He looked kind of… serious.  Then again it was pretty rare to be stoic over ice cream.  "Really, though.  Sounds like fun.  What you’re doing.“   He admitted, packing the cake cone as much as he could without breaking it.  
  
"Not really glamorous work, either.”  The large man shrugged one shoulder, already having started on devouring his treat.  Anything worth doing was definitely worth over-doing, and there was indeed ice cream beneath the toppings.  “Just collecting data.”  
  
“And pictures.”  The blond pipped up, smiling brightly with an easy thanks when the cone was handed over.  
  
“Which is data.”  The brunet pointed out, sliding the money across the counter; but not removing his fingers from the Gil immediately.  "Is it usually this quiet here?“  
  
Noctis blinked.  "Until summer?  Yeah.”  He admitted, not really wanting to look down at the money because that was kind of rude, but… so was just letting it linger there…  
  
The bespectacled man then looked over at his associates, watching them be absolutely entranced in their own treats.  It was good ice cream, not just because they’d spent several days tracking down just a handful of species in particular, not to mention the effort it took to try and humanely trap one for samples.  There was something to be said for reward systems.  Lifting his fingers, he instructed, “Consider the change a tip.  We’ll be back to regale you with our lack of epic adventures, I’m sure.”  
  
He… had not been prepared for that.  A quick glance told him that was definitely more than a standard tip, not realizing he was giving an honest smile.  "I’ll hold you to it.  Guess I’m the official ice cream provider while you’re here, after all.“


	16. Et Tu, Carrots?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I imagine this conversation to take place in camp many times, in many forms.

“You were serious.”  The prince’s tone was almost accusatory.  
  
Ignis held back an annoyed sigh through sheer force of will.  "Noctis, we’re _out of food_.  Unless of course you reconsider vegetables.“  
  
Looking down at his plate, filled with one thick slice of toast without so much as butter on it, Noctis insisted, "I didn’t think you were _serious_.”  
  
“‘No food’ means no food, Noct.”  The brunet insisted, sounding every bit as disappointed in the situation as he felt.  But not as much as the prince himself felt, it appeared.  
  
“Well, it’s.”  Prompto started.  Then stopped as all eyes turned to him.  "Uh.  Nutritious toast?“  
  
Nocis huffed in disbelief, gently prodding at the flame-grilled bread.  It was toast.  And toast was fine, he liked toast… but…  
  
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with this turnip stew.”  Ignis insisted.  
  
And maybe that was true.  For the most part.  "Except for the turnips.“  
  
Gladiolus, who had been silent up until that point, finally snorted.  "You’d really rather have toast?”  
  
The prince’s expression answered for him, but he supposed if his choice was toast or nothing at all, he’d take the toast.  He just wished there was also butter or jam or… _anything_ …  
  
“There’s always–”  Prompto began.  
  
Swiftly stopped by the adviser.  "No.“  
  
The gunner pouted.   "No what?”  
  
Clearing his throat, Ignis insisted, “I cannot in good conscience allow you to exist on a steady diet of Cup Noodle.   _Any_ of you.  Which is why I’m quite hoping that the rain will let up tomorrow, so we can get some proper food that we will all eat.  Until that point, it’s stew or toast.”  
  
The bodyguard continued to spoon a bit more of the aforementioned stew into his mouth before adding, “Besides, we’re almost out of Cup Noodle too.”  
  
“But you said there was no food.”  Noctis called Ignis out.  "That’s food!“  
  
"Cup Noodle is not food."  The brunet ended that argument immediately, ignoring Gladiolus’ tiny sound of offense as he readjusted his glasses with one finger.  
  
All was silence save the sounds of spoons against bowls for a time… and the crunch of toast being bitten and chewed.  Twice.  "So there’s no meat in that stew.  At all.”  
  
“No.”   Ignis confirmed neutrally.  
  
“There’s just.  Mushy vegetables.”  Noctis ventured.  
  
“Actually, they’re pretty firm.  I mean in a good way!”   Prompto assured before any offense could be taken by their resident cook.  He kinda liked Iggy’s cooking, after all.  
  
“Yeah, still got some bite to them.  Good work, Ignis.”  Gladio complimented, getting to the bottom of his own bowl.

“Thank you.”  He accepted the compliments proudly rather than admitting that he hadn’t wanted to make them wait any longer for a hot meal.  Still, it was noted; better to leave vegetables slightly firm.  "Noctis, there’s still plenty left for you.“  
  
"There are carrots in the stew.”  The prince responded, as though that in itself were the worst thing he could think of to do to a stew.  
  
“And yet you don’t mind carrot cake.”  Ignis pointed out unfairly.  
  
“That’s because it’s _cake_.”  Noctis gestured at the obviousness of the statement.  "With sugar and frosting.“  Then he paused for a moment.  "Can you make a carrot cake for dinner?”  
  
The sigh the adviser had been holding in slipped out.  "Eat your toast, Noctis.“


	17. He Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Omen-related.) It shouldn’t be recognizable at all.

The place between dreams and visions have long since stopped mattering, let alone making sense.  He doesn’t know and it doesn’t matter and when everything feels like it’s cracking and crumbling and flying apart–

He falls.  
  
He falls _through_.  What, he can’t know, because there was something and now there’s nothing but that feeling in the pit of his stomach and he reaches out to slow himself down, to stop, but there’s nothing to reach for.   He calls a weapon and gets one that he didn’t want; a gun can do nothing to slow him down.  He almost laughs at the ridiculous of the idea as he aims down and shoots–  
  
The black abyss below him shatters into light, and he has to shield his eyes.  Suddenly the feeling of falling dissipates, leaving him standing alone in the middle of a memory of Tenebrae.  Green and lush and calm.   Then fire.  It seems to spread from his hand ( _From my father’s hand._   The thought is crushed before it can fully form, untrue despite the seeds remaining, clinging to his skin.)  It burns and consumes until the green is red and gold and brown and dead and there is nothing else.   _There is nothing else._  
  
Until he sees a form walking through the flames toward him.  Familiar but foreign, as close as it is far away, emerging from flame but still the eyes burn like the fires around it, the rest darkened almost like a silhouette.  It shouldn’t be recognizable at all.  
  
It’s… him.  He sees himself, but not, _but not_ ; possessed, enraged, trident in hand, lifting it as if to strike, _Not me, not me, I am not that one–_  
  
He feels the stab.  Three of them, one for each prong of the trident–he _feels_ it in his shoulder and chest, it’s real, he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe–and there’s a laugh.  He’s falling again, to the ground this time, and the other him is laughing and he’s never heard that sound before in his life, but he knows without question he’s capable of making it.  
  
It’s that realization more than anything that shocks him into wakefulness, gasping and fighting against the touch on his shoulder as his eyes open wide and sightless–  
  
Then he hears them.  He _hears_ them, not the laughter, but the ones missing from the dream.  The ones, he realizes with a cold jolt of panic, he didn’t even know had been missing.  _“Noct, you’re safe.  It’s alright.”  "We’ve got you.“  "Easy there, yeah?”_  
  
He wants to laugh.   At what, he doesn’t know.  
  
He wants to laugh but he _can’t_ , because that sound is still in there, in the back of his mind, still too fresh.  "Yeah.“  He says instead, putting his arm over his eyes and taking deep breaths.   "Yeah.”  
  
He tries not to think about those dreams getting clearer.  More frequent.  
  
He tries not to worry about the fact that he thinks he might hear that laugh from his own mouth sooner rather than later.  And that he likely won’t even recognize himself anymore.


	18. Save the World Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Omen-related.) They made a promise.

He’d barely made it in time, skidding to a stop, ignoring the fact that what he’d nearly slipped on was blood.  He couldn’t think about that, couldn’t let it cloud his mind.  So… much red…  "You can’t do this!   Please!“  
  
Lunafreya looked over her shoulder, motion slow, a look of sad surprise on her face.  She supposed she had underestimated him; he’d followed her despite the trail she left behind.  If the crystal wanted a sacrifice, then it would get one.  And it would not be the future king.  "Take heed and stay back.  I know what I’m doing, Noctis.”  
  
He heard it in her voice; the tremble amidst the order.  No, she couldn’t, she just…  "You don’t have to!  You can stop this now!  We can end this together!“  He pleaded.  He’d come all that way, he’d fought so hard to get to her, they all had.  Not just because she was the Oracle; she was his friend.  His family.  Not another one, not one more single loss that could be prevented–  ” _Please_.   Luna.“  
  
She looked, for just a moment, as crushed as she felt.  She should have erected more barriers, left more Daemons to fight.  If not to turn them back, then at least to slow them down.  Noctis might have been alone there, but she knew the rest were certain to be close, at his back.   _They’ll take care of him._  She wanted to apologize, honestly.  To say she was sorry for what she’d done, what she was doing, what she was going to do.  Except that she _wasn’t_.  All of this was a means to an end, and she… she’d chosen to remove Noctis’ burden from him herself.  The crystal would not have him.   Resolve set, shoulder’s squared, she continued on her path to the crystal itself, chamber wide open and waiting for her.  
  
"Luna!”  He was heedless of the crack in his own voice, taking a step forward and almost running headlong into another barrier.  He could break it easily, destroy it almost without effort; but that would drain her just that little bit more.  "We’re supposed to save the world together.“  He felt so young, then.  So useless, childish.  Like none of the strength he held mattered, as though any attempts made to draw on the power of the Lucii would be futile by their very nature.  He was just a child again before her, shy and quiet, out of his element.  Frustrated beyond reason.  "We… we made a promise.”  
  
That stopped her.  She cursed quietly under her breath because of it.  Yes, they’d made a promise.  But that…  "That’s different, Noctis.“  
  
He had her.  That much wasn’t certain, was a desperate hope, but he _had_ her.  "I promised I wouldn’t let you down.”  The barrier shattered in one swift hit of his sword, rushing through the shards of energy to get to her, just to wrap his arms around her and try to drag her away–  
  
Noctis hadn’t expected to be stabbed before he could reach her.   One prong of the trident in his shoulder, the other two in his chest.  He gasped painfully, from the weapon itself.  From the circumstances.  He’s escaped from the nightmare vision only to find…  
  
It took everything left in her not to sob.  There were still tears in her eyes, unfallen.  Her voice was cracking as she turned, brittle to her own ears: “I know you won’t.”  
  
“Luna!”  He reached out to her running form, trying to warp to her, to grab her, get in front of her, anything–  
  
All at once, time stopped.  Then ceased altogether.   Then started up again.  
  
Luna was no longer there.  
  
But the crystal did begin to glow as the once-exposed portion started to seal, “healing” itself.  
  
Luna was simply no _longer_ , the trident itself bursting into golden sparks and red droplets as it disappeared entirely.

Noctis was vaguely disappointed to hear no laughter.


End file.
